


(Mono)chromatic rooms

by yulotomorrow



Category: Prey (Video Game 2017)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yulotomorrow/pseuds/yulotomorrow
Summary: It's a story about how the "empathy" is formed.





	(Mono)chromatic rooms

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [白色房间与黑色房间](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633973) by [yulotomorrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yulotomorrow/pseuds/yulotomorrow). 



Act 1  
1.  
\--White room--

I'm watching the data on the white screen increasing row by row.

Lamp light brightens everything around, and I put on my psychoscope, watching towards the object being researched.

It's a container with the research object, the black creature merges with the dark environment.

But is it really something to care about when my equipments working smoothly receiving all the data I need?

 

\--Black room--

I'm sleeping in the dark, at least in the definition made by human beings.

Surrounded by the cold and crowded walls, nothing can be sensed other than the glass in front of me.

I'm sleeping here for long, after numerous escape attempts, what I can do is only watching the light outside unconsciously.

 

2.

I cared about nothing around me, except the scientific research I devoted myself on.

All of the sounds, colors, people around or passing by, are not much meaningful to me. Only after all of the interrupting environment vanishes in my heart, the answer would emerge clearer, like writing on a plain white paper.

The color of my world is pure white.

Even the multiple colors on the diagrams, are just a functional mark for distinguishing. Only when these data lines match beautifully with the prediction results, a barely noticeable smile will appear on my face quietly.

Some buzz from the crowd indicating to me, that except my dearest brother, everyone dislikes me to some extent. But I didn't hurt anyone around me, it's just a lack of caring for me.

Could you call this "not caring" a mistake? It seems that I gave the answers really carelessly when it comes to this kind of problems.

\----------

I have not much "thoughts" without a coral connection. The intinction took control of all my movements. 

Our means of life is just attack everything not belong to us--not connecting to the coral network.

The body of me came from an unvitalized shell of human being, stuck in this endless coldness and darkness, while the "soul" of us, are quite used to it.

We were coming from the much darker corner of the deep universe.

 

3.

It's not that I never hurt someone, but that is what I called "sacrifice". A sacrifice, for such a great research.

Those people with the heavy guilt deserving death, having this chance to contribute to the cutting-edge technology with their life, they should feel lucky for it don't they?

Right, no need to waste time on sympathizing. Involving emotional stuff in research will affect much of the progress, and it will introduce much noise to my white world waiting for the final answer to arrive.

Yes it's just a few steps in front of me.

This giant black monster which I witnessed its creation, please generate more data for me. Calm down, just a few more is enough.

\----------

Am I being observed?

I lost all the ability to fight, and what I can do is just watching, receiving those blurry views. In before I never need to understand what the target is, just attacking is enough. But now I cannot even attack.

I can only watching.

 

4.

What do I see in the glass?

When there's no need to observe, they're just data provider with a vague figure in my eyes. The most important thing is the research data after all.

Maybe they will hate us, but that's not important anymore.

\----------

What is emotion? I don't know, it's so strange that this question would ever appear.

And I fell asleep again.

 

5. 

The time locked the white room, and it went around repeatedly.

The fate smashed the black room, and it spread over rapidly.

 

 

Act 2

\--Chromatic room--

Morgan (consciousness)/ _Phantom (subconsciousness)_

 

Waking from the dream, and the moment breaking _(entering)_ the illusion, I realized I have forgotten everything _(everything restarted)_. Learning the rules of the new world carefully, I started to observe and enjoy the deep and wide universe _(delicate artificial decorations)_ that I never seen before. 

This world is full of colors.

Holding the golden gun or the heavy gray wrench in my hand, seeing the door unlocking from red to green; push the orange button under my finger, mysterious glowing purple liquid _(power)_ flowing in my eye and brain. Climbing through the white gloo shining variant colors, moving past the dark colored high walls with decorations; Manipulating the blue lightning power, freezing the strange _(familiar)_ dark purple monster in front of me.

Everything looks not related to me, while feeling they're strongly relating to me.

Walking through the messy floor, with the red and blue flame burning around. Wreck of people and monsters scattering around reflecting their life and death. Roads ahead lead to different directions: To destroy or to preserve, to be mercy or to be cruel. I read through all kinds of books and documents that I approved or not, using the novel devices told being invented by me, but I still know nothing about them.

_(Was it me that changed?)_

I still vaguely remembering myself expecting the brand new life just the day before, but other than that everything seems lost in my mind. A cold machine telling me all about the past of me living here using my emotionless voice. I don't need to stare at a single point now. I'm looking at the world that I should have been very familiar, as much as I can. All the color, all the voices,

_(was it the world that changed?)_

Floating in the zero-G environment freely, with inertia leading my way. I haven't felt this kind of freedom for so long. Growing and living in a family that is strict and without any emotional bond, with their attitude of only profit and product matters, I have used to the life chasing that one single goal of success. Gradually I got used to all of them, I loved, and obsessed with this pursue for success. I have never paid attention to other things in my life since then. My goal should have been here, the space station and all its researches, always pursuing the results at all costs. 

But when I opened my eyes, everything changed. I don't need to create everything nonstop, instead i need to destroy them--all of the things I created, by "another me".

If I still remember how to smile, I hope time could stop here and let me appreciate all of this smilingly. But those flying black balls with beautiful light and flame are reminding me time is limited. Still this short moment of freedom and peace made my heart beats faster.

Such a beautiful world.

 But i must fight. Even thought the wrench is still quite heavy for me to swing, I have to hold it firmly to create my road. Holding up another neuromod with a bit of hesitation, I always need a reason to stab these long needles in my eyes, for the previous me, the reason must be "for the brand new field of research and the improvement of mankind", but for now, the reason is simply "I cannot give up here and now".

_(But who AM I?)_

When looking into the eyes of the mere survivors, I saw the similar desire to survive. Something echoed in my heart at that moment. (I'm experiencing and feeling this emotion of human, it's strangely warm, different from anything I've known.) Some of them are surprised and happy to meet me, their expecting expressions making me have no reason to reject them; Some are quite defensive towards me, might because of some mistake made by "me" in the past. Even though, when I help them with my little efforts, they are still willing to forgive and glad to offer help, which makes me really grateful. (When I was looking at them, I had a feeling that they're the same as me-- or I am the same as them.) Facing the same crisis, I moved forward a step towards understanding, (although not the part of "honor of human", I still hope I can help them to live a little longer.) because I'm exactly the same as them with the willing to live and fight.

_(Even though I have felt that my fate cannot be changed...)_

Behind another door, I saw the beautiful light, spreading and floating all around in the air. The moment I touched it, I heard some strange voices in my mind--

_(You're not the one who you thing you are.)_

_(They're lying to you.)_

Then who am I? I asked myself again and again. _(Something awaken inside me, but even that soul is changing gradually.)_

I don't know if I'm really the one as the past me. The only prove to persuade me -memory- has been cut already. What I only know is that, the present me do not have to imitate that old "me", nor drawing the line with them. The past had passed, but the present is still in my hand.

......

My sight is on the little shuttle flying far away, like a lonely boat in the sea of stars. I have made the choice, I chose the redemption, for the mistakes I didn't know but surely happened.

Then I pressed the button.

If there were a chance to reverse time to go over again, I'm not sure if i would made the same mistakes. What I do know is that this present me without the memory of the 3 years between will not choose the same road again. Because I have seen the world, the people, the emotions and feelings, the true color of the world. I lost the memories and still not reaching the whole picture of the truth, but I saw the different views which is more important, I think that should be enough.

I closed my eyes.

 

Act 3

\--Gray room--

 "It's over. The experiment."

I looked down to see my hands, more precisely, the black and powerful claws, slightly waving and seemingly flowing.

The moment I knew that I was dreaming, or we are dreaming. Becoming each other in the dreams. And I was you all the time.

I'm moving forward awkwardly along the dimming corridor. I was born to move fast, but I am getting used to your movements. After the long time of prisoning, I still find myself hard to control.

The cold and dusty equipments alongside the corridor looked complicated and strange, if I had your memory from the missing 3 years, I should have known them; but I assume they were thrown with the abandoned abilities a long time ago.

The end of the corridor is a metal wall, looks deep and gray. I walked nearer, trying to recognize my shape in it with the help of my glowing eyes.

I didn't created with the ability to empathize, but I got the mirror neurons from you, and I recognized myself in the mirror. Thank you for giving me your memories and abilities, I have my own soul now. I learned human emotions in the incident with you, feeling the new things that belongs to human and even you lost them. We didn't really communicate, but the moment I got your memories, I began to understand you.

I really hope I can see your face in the mirror, but you're not here anymore...

I'm using your abilities and emotions, to observe the world, to think about the past, to create a new road--

I decide to live as you, no matter how hard the paths in front of me are.


End file.
